


Dog sees God: The Fluffy, Angsty Alternate Ending

by facetiousmadman



Category: Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead - Royal
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and i thought most of them weren't that in character, and it's 4:30 am, and not enough alternate endings, enjoy, so let me present this to you, there aren't enough fics for this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1794640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetiousmadman/pseuds/facetiousmadman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Beethoven tries to kill himself, he miscalculates and ends up in the emergency room instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dog sees God: The Fluffy, Angsty Alternate Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. I wrote this after watching like eight versions of Dog sees God, at 4am. The first time I saw this play, I cried for longer than any reasonable human would admit. I searched in vain for months for the perfect fanfiction. I found a few great ones but they just didn't seem as in character as I thought they might be. I don't mean to say this is the perfect fic that I was looking for (if anyone writes that, let me know), but it's a step. Enjoy.

CB walked into the hospital room slowly. The crisp white was everywhere; walls, sheets, curtains. Everything looked clean and orderly except for the boy lying in the middle of everything, so small, so fragile that CB hardly registered him at first. The bandages wrapping Beethoven's hands only reached his wrists, but red streaks clawed up his forearms. There were tubes and wires on his arms and chest, feeding nutrients and checking blood pressure. At first, CB saw everything in slow motion. Beethoven's eyelids fluttered and he adjusted his head, propped up on a pillow, to look toward CB. CB felt a release of pressure off his chest and was beside Beethoven in two strides. He sighed, taking in a breath as if he had not encountered oxygen for days. He sat next to Beethoven on that perfect hospital bed. Beethoven surveyed him with some interest, but his eyes remained dry and his face remained expressionless.  
CB didn't know where to start. He didn't know what to say that could ease any tension or make things better. Come to think of it, he had thought Beethoven was doing fine. "How are you?" he began with. Considering the situation, it wasn't much, but he thought it would be best to start with light conversation.  
Beethoven looked at him. His eyes were bitter. "I'm fucking great, how are you?"  
CB was somewhat taken aback. He lowered his voice. "You know what I mean," he said more softly.  
"Well, I had my hands slammed in a piano, went home, overdosed on sleeping pills, and was rushed to the hospital. How the fuck do you think I am?" Beethoven's voice cut through the surreality of the hospital.  
CB couldn't think of anything to say. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), his mouth moved faster than his brain. "I love you," he said. He realized as he began to blush that his cheeks were wet.  
As Beethoven's eyes locked onto his, CB could sense more warmth than he had seen so far. "I know, CB," he said quietly. "That's not going to fix anything."  
CB's throat felt clenched and he let out a small, involuntary sob. Beethoven sighed. "If it means anything, I feel safe with you."  
CB nodded his head and raised his eyes to Beethoven. With every second, he fell more in love with him. "Why did you do it?" he had to know.  
Beethoven stared at him. There was no desperation or sadness in his voice. "CB ... listen to me. You don't see the world the way I see it. You have no idea how life looks from here. Not only is the entire concept of life meaningless and excruciatingly temporary, but when the idea that existence is equal to suffering is nailed into your head for years, nothing looks worthwhile. Do you remember when I told you that there is a heaven, where all the animals and people go after death?" He paused and CB gave him a half smile, nodding. "You don't understand how bright that looks when everything else is dark. I will be able to play the piano again. My hands will heal. But the piano was my home. It was the one place where I had power over my environment, able to manipulate sounds and create something beautiful. It was a secret language that I shared with the composers. When Matt came into the piano room, he made me play for him. He told me never to talk to you again. The piano invigorated me, gave me a momentary burst of foolish courage. I told him no. I called him Pig-Pen. And he slammed the piano on my hands. That was the last thing I could take. He left me completely helpless, unable to return to safety, unable to regain any power. What else could I have done?"  
CB looked at him, eyes wide, tears trickling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he murmured.  
"You thought you could fix me," said Beethoven.  
"I thought loving you would be enough."  
"Not enough to protect me from myself."  
CB felt absolutely helpless. "What can I do, then?"  
Beethoven gazed at him surprisingly softly. "I don't know."  
CB leaned over to Beethoven and kissed his cheek gently. "I love you," he said.  
"Please don't stop doing that."


End file.
